200810 Come Home

a poem.

come home come home

the wind's so hot 

the sky is white with august haze

the thinnest cotton still too close for the humid air

air like breath around me

thick as honey round me

come home come home my body cries

take off your clothes

let me feel your skin

damp as the undersides of leaves

come lie with me on the stripped down bed

tonight's too hot for sleep

Mumma Yaga 1997